


One Leaf Falls

by psiten



Category: Clover - CLAMP
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Clover Facility (Clover - CLAMP), F/M, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Missing Scenes, Non-Chronological, References to Canonically Implied Child Abuse, Short Chapters, Stylized Formatting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13037487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiten/pseuds/psiten
Summary: Only when they are not lost does your heart remain intact.That something, someone, who makes a piece of your heart take on their own shapeAnd where is that happiness inside a now-broken heart?A woman with two loves: a man and her music. A girl who listens from inside a cage. The point where two lines that never touch, converge.(NB: This story uses workskin formatting to attempt to emulate the atmosphere of the Clover manga, and it ishighly recommendedthat you leave this formatting turned on. If you select the option to turn off creator formatting, some clarity may be lost. Not optimized for screen reader technology.)





	1. Leaving, I See You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkyTintedWater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyTintedWater/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide to my recipient! Even though this isn't the happiest story, I tried my hardest to stay true to the atmosphere that makes Clover what it is. Thank you for your wonderful prompt, and I hope you enjoy the fic.

My last wish is for you...

Far away...

the song stops unfinished.

A blast.

A room filled with screams.

The high-pitched whine of microphone feedback for the fraction of a second it takes to clatter to the stage.

The ungraceful percussion of a life cut too short, even if the seconds of that life had been measured and counted since her very first breath. Her breath ends, the song ends. The music never resolves.

Suu doesn't know what to do with the tears in her eyes.

When Oruha had told her, "I will die today," she'd wanted to shut it all out, to pretend the moment hadn't happened -- wouldn't happen. For the first time, she'd wished she couldn't hear the world she could only imagine outside the birdcage. All to never know that Oruha had been right that her time was over.

To not lose.

Wasn't that "happiness"?

Only when they are not lost  
does your heart remain intact.

That something, someone  
who makes a piece of your heart  
take on their own shape

And where is that happiness  
inside a now-broken heart?


	2. I Hear You

"Who knows where we'll end up?"

"I do, Kazuhiko.  
But I'm here anyway."

"Here?"

"Backstage?"

"With you."

"Oh, yes. You are, aren't you..."

"I thought I might be dreaming."

"Mhm--  
..."

...

"Kazuhiko!  
You're such a cad..."

"You're absolutely right. Twice backstage is pushing it."

"Milady, may a gentleman take you home?"

"That  
depends."

"Can you  
find me one?"

They went back to her apartment, but the place didn't really matter.

When she had Kazuhiko, she had the world...

... in a slightly different way than she had the world when it was a microphone in her hands and she was singing to a hushed crowd at the club.

If she'd known that love felt like this, she might've given in sooner, despite knowing how soon everything would end.

at least  
for today

at least  
for a little while

they could be happy

Falling asleep next to him.

Letting him wake her up with breakfast.

It was a far better start to the day than waking up alone.

After all...

She only had one life, as far as that went.

"Who would want to spend their entire life alone?" Oruha thought, chuckling into the water streaming down from her shower. Who, indeed. Who would've believed that she'd be the one asking that question? After all, she'd meant to do exactly that. She hadn't believed there was any other choice.

A sound cut through the rush of water.

Opening the shower door, she listened more closely.

The telephone was ringing?

Well, hardly the strangest time someone had called.

"Hello?"

. . .

There were no words on the other end, just the sound of someone breathing.

It was a little early in the day for prank calls, but then again, this didn't sound like the usual type of prank callers.

The breaths were light.

Timid.

Like a child.

But the child said nothing...

until the very moment she was about to hang up.

"Wait."

She shouldn't have stayed on the line.

It wasn't like her to listen to strange people calling out of the blue.

But there was something in the girl's voice that she trusted.

As if she'd heard it before.

"I'm a big fan  
of yours."

Hear the whisper  
of the heart  
Hear its true voice


	3. Though Never To Touch

"Is it possible  
to miss something  
you never knew?"


	4. I Saw You Leaving

I don't know  
why...

but I didn't  
want to  
leave you

"Welcome to the Clover Facility."

"Please wait for your number to be called."

The testing center was loud and bustling in the hallways, filled with other children like her, other parents like her mother who murmured questions about when the doctors would come to do the tests.

Parents whispering, "But how much?" to nurses at windows after making sure their son or daughter was looking away. Not listening.

"Doctor Okazaki to Exam Four.  
Doctor Okazaki, Exam Four."

Oruha would have heard if it had been her mother asking. She always knew when her mother was talking about her to the other mothers, even if she thought she was being quiet.

She guessed those kids could hear, too, from the way they held their mothers' hands tightly and stayed nice and still, the way you had to do so your mom or your dad didn't look at you like they were crying.

Or really cry, covering her face with her hands and saying, "What am I going to do with you?" like Oruha's mother had after the last time the teacher at daycare had pulled her aside.

"You can't keep scaring the other children like that. Men with guns, screaming crowds, saying 'Bang' and falling on the floor... That's not okay, Oruha."

Oruha hadn't told her, "But that's the truth, that's how I die," because saying that never made her mother stop fussing. It didn't help. It wasn't something good girls said -- except, it seemed, to the doctors here, who she was supposed to tell everything.

"Visitor L5739, Please come to drop-off.  
L5739."

Her mother squeezed her hand.

"Come on, honey. That's us. You'll be a good girl for the doctors, now, won't you?"

She barely had time to nod. They walked to the big, white door, where the nurse said her mother had to stay outside, and the nurse took her to room after room.

The room where they weighed her, and took her temperature, and all the things doctors usually did.

The room where they told her to hang up her clothes and change into a little paper gown that didn't close all the way and crinkled when she sat, then tied her curls up tight under a paper hat so they wouldn't get in the way.

The room where they glued sensors to her face and arms and chest and legs, with machines beeping on every side while a slideshow of strange pictures flew by on the wall. They told her to think a word for every thing she saw, and left her there for a long time.

Saucepan.

Thin triangles.

Busy crosswalk.

Newscaster.

Dead man.

Artificial camel.

(a long, long time)

"Code Green, Exam Four! Code Green!"

The nurse locked the door, and dropped a bar across it to stop it from opening.

"Now, you go on with the test, dear. This is nothing to worry about," she said, even though Oruha could hear the military boots outside, tromping through the hallway. They were heading deeper into the hospital, towards a room she hadn't seen yet.

Only a few footsteps were running the other way, whispering, "Colonel Ko had better get here soon. We can't handle this one. I don't care how much like a kid it looks."

"Repeat, Code Green. All personnel to Exam Four."

The nurse activated the transport cube in the corner, leaving Oruha alone, locked in, as the equipment kept running. She should've gone on with the test, she knew, but the flashing pictures went so fast, and she kept turning to look at the door to guess what the sounds outside were. Far away, now, there were screams, and crashing.

And she was alone.

But she wouldn't cry. Oruha closed her eyes, blotting out the flashing lights, and sang to still her heart.

Underneath  
the big chestnut tree  
Here we are  
You and me...

(Click.)

Shall we play  
And friendly be?  
Underneath  
the big chestnut tree...

"Hello?"

She had been sure the nurse had locked the door, but it was opened just a crack, until it hit the bar keeping it closed, and Oruha thought she could see the eye of a girl even younger than her on the other side.

"Hello. Are they testing you, too?"

"I live here, for a while now."

"But when the boy got mad, the doctors all left. I thought I was alone."

"My nurse left, too. Is that why? What happened?"

"There are three boys. They came a few days after me.

"The doctors tried to split them apart today. One of them didn't like it."

"That many soldiers, for one boy?"

...

"They're almost done cleaning up the bodies. I should go back."

"I just wanted to say you have a pretty voice..."

"If you stay, I hope I can hear you sing again."

"I didn't know this was a place people stayed."

"But if you're here, we can play together."

"I can't see other people. I'm dangerous."

...

"Goodbye."

As suddenly as the girl had appeared, she was gone. Moments later, the nurse re-emerged from the transporter cube in the corner and unbarred the door. The doctor she took Oruha to see had a short temper, and didn't wait for her to finish answering his questions.

"And is that all?" he asked after she told him how her body hit the ground when the man in the future fired the gun.

She nodded. Oruha wasn't sure what to say.

Shoving the chart at the nurse on his way out the door, the doctor growled, "One leaf, at most. I don't know why we even have to waste our time examining ones like this."

It was the last any of the doctors said to her. The one who burned the mark onto her chest told the nurse, "Hold her still," but he didn't talk to her. They all stood silently while the loudspeakers called out the number L5739 so her mother would know to come pick her up. Over her head, they told her mother, "There's nothing to do. She might as well be a normal child," when her mother asked what happened now.

"Nothing?! I get nothing for this?"

"The guard will see you out, ma'am."

In the warm wind outside, Oruha's mother adjusted the collar of her coat so it covered the gauze taped over her mark. It itched, in a painful kind of way, but she didn't fuss. Her mother tried to pretend she wasn't upset, but her eyes were red from crying, so now more than ever, Oruha knew she had to be a good girl.

"They could've at least marked you somewhere discreet," she sighed. "But don't worry. We'll find you some dresses that cover this up. No one has to know."

"I'm sorry,  
Mama."

She'd be good at school, so her mother didn't need to bring her back.

She wouldn't make a fuss, and maybe her mother wouldn't regret that he doctors hadn't made her stay.

Oruha didn't think she would have wanted to stay. But there was one thing she was more sorry for than anything.

...  
  
I wish  
  
I'd asked that girl  
her name  
...


	5. At The Beginning

There was a telephone by the west window of the birdcage, one she'd requested long ago along with Oruha's phone number. She had never needed to use it to call the Wizards, since the clockwork animals who tended her garden would pass along any message she needed to send.

They'd helped her ferry conversations, and plans. A few words here and there to the one member of the council who didn't hint that she wanted anything in return. Trying to understand what it meant to have lost someone. Pictures of a park, with a statue built so everyone could see and remember. Suu could have asked the animals to pass this message, too.

She used the phone anyway.

This was her first and last wish.

The general would hear it in her voice.

.  
.  
.  
  
.  
.  
.  
  
.  
.  
.

Listening.

In the dark.

Fainter than a song breathed into a microphone, but still...

"Nine seven nine one six nine one nine five nine," the numbers made a melody played by human hands.

Her hands could play it, too.

In a room not too far away, a telephone rang.

"Suu?"

"General Ko."

"I think...  
I'd like to leave this place."

"I'd like  
to leave the cage."

"...  
We've never had the power to stop you."

"Still."

"Tell me.  
What changed?"

.  
.  
.  
  
.  
.  
.  
  
.  
.  
.

"I want  
to be happy."

The only question after that was the question of how to get where she wanted to go, and she knew exactly the guide to ask for.

Someone she'd recognize the moment she saw him, even though it'd been so many years since she'd seen another human face.

Someone whose heart was the same shape as hers.

She'd know.

. . .  
t h e  
b e g i n n i n g  
. . .

take me far away...


End file.
